


A song stuck in your head

by Memi2501



Series: Imagines [2]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7440895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memi2501/pseuds/Memi2501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader sings a song in Spanish and Peter asks them to translate it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A song stuck in your head

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on the song Princesa by Las Pastillas del Abuelo

Peter was hurting in places he was not sure  _ could _ hurt.

Apparently, every criminal in New York was in the mood to be on the streets and Spider-Man had one of the busiest nights in a while. He fought a group of muggers first and then webbed a car thief to a lamp post and punched a drug dealer into next month. And that only in the first hour and a half. By the time he was finished it was almost three in the morning and thank the gods it was friday and he got to sleep in the next day. He yawned as he swung across the streets of Queens, his lenses closing as his own eyelids fell. Falling asleep mid-air was a very bad idea, so he lifted his mask just above his nose and breathed in the cool night air, hoping it would keep him awake until he reached his home.

He never reached the bedroom. He entered through the window and only managed to take his mask off and throw it on the living-room floor before crashing in the sofa and staying there. He was off like a light in a matter of seconds, breathing in the sweet smell of the cushions.

The next morning, Peter stirred in his dreams when he heard a voice coming from the kitchen. He lifted his eyelids and looked around the room. The fog in his mind dissipates enough for him to realize that it was not, in fact, his living-room. This was your place. He lifted his masked hands to rub his eyes but decided better and took both of them off before sitting up and doing so. Peter thought: “ _ What am I doing here? I was supposed to go to my apartment… _ ” He scratched the back of his head when he heard your voice again and his heart skipped a beat. Peter had heard you talking in Spanish before, when you Skyped with your family, but it was the first time he heard you singing in your native tongue. And he felt  _ so _ flustered because you sounded so nice and the way you pronounced those sounds that did not exist in English was so natural. He wished he had taken Spanish in school instead of French so he could understand what you were saying. Not that you have never offered to teach Peter your language, but most of the times were just words or small phrases. That is the reason he could understand the two words that fell from your lips and froze, because it was the first time he had heard you say them. “ **_Te amo_ ** ”...  _ I love you _ . He  would be lying if he said the thought of saying those words to you didn’t keep him up at night. You two have been together for more than a year and Peter was sure it was about time he said them.

Peter got up slowly and walked towards the kitchen, trying not to make you aware of his presence, fearing that you would stop singing. Your voice was one of his favourite things about you. He rested on the threshold, watching you singing softly and swaying as you prepared your breakfast. He could have stayed there for hours, had his stomach not grumbled loudly, making you jump.

  
  


****

  
  


Your phone buzzed when the alarm went off and you groggily stretched your hand to turn it off. You got up lazily and scratched your armpit as you dragged your feet out of your room and into the bathroom, where you washed your face and brushed your teeth and hair. Once you felt less sleepy you walked towards the kitchen, where you opened the fridge and tried to decide what to have for breakfast. In the end, you decided to have a cup of coffee with toasts and jam. You poured water on the kettle and left it on the stove to boil while you put some slices of bread on the toaster. You grabbed a cup from the cabinets and put some instant coffee, sugar and a spoonful of hot water and started stirring it, creating a brown foam after a minute. You loved preparing your coffee like that because it reminded you of your home, Argentina, and it was the way your mother used to prepare it for you before you moved to the United States.

Thinking about your home made you a bit nostalgic, so you started singing a song from a famous band from your country that always made you feel better. “ **_Si me pudieran dar a elegir cómo y dónde yo quisiera morir. Contestaría acostado, feliz de estar a tu lado…_ ** ”  You came to work to New York because of your job four years ago and you fell in love with the city, even though you were yet to get used to the constant hustle and bustle… And the superheroes. Back in your hometown the only glimpse of superheroes were the ones who appeared on the movies. Speaking of heroes, you could not help but think of a certain arachnid you met right when you moved into the city. Your knight in red and blue spandex armour saved you from a group of racist that started calling you names when they heard you talking in Spanish on the phone. Spider-Man webbed them to the nearest wall before they could finish raising their fists. You insisted on thanking him and you asked him to see you the following night on that same spot, where you gave him a box containing argentinian food you had made for him. He accepted the gift with a stutter and webbed away, leaving you giddy and feeling warm inside. “ **_Víctima de un sexo exagerado._ ** ” After two years and a half of chance encounters with the young hero - and for him to trust you enough to reveal his identity -, you finally gathered the courage to ask him on a date. He said yes and you have been together ever since. “ **_Sonriendo, mirando al techo con tu cabeza en mi pecho._ ** ” You kept singing as you stirred the spoon in your mug and waited for the water to boil. You were so engrossed on preparing your breakfast and on the song that you did not hear the shuffling coming from the living-room or the steps that kept coming closer. You turned the stove off and picked up the kettle and started pouring water in the mug, watching with pleasure as the sweet foam appeared on the top of the hot beverage. “ **_Y hoy sos la protagonista de todos mis sueños. Soy esclavo de tu piel._ ** ”

Just as you finished the song, a loud growl made you jump off your skin and grabbed the first thing you saw, the hot spoon, as a weapon to defend yourself with. You turned to face the source of the noise and yelped as you saw your boyfriend, still in his suit, blushing furiously and putting his hands in front of him, trying to calm you down. “Sorry!” He exclaimed and crouched when you threw the spoon at him, barely missing his head.

“How long have you been standing there? No, wait. How long have you  _ been _ here, Parker? You are still in your suit.” He flinched when you called him by his last name. You never did that. At the same time, you realized he had  _ heard you singing _ , and you blushed up to your ears and down to your neck.

“Sorry!” he repeated. “I was on my way home from patrolling and I must have come here instead. I was tired and I didn’t notice this wasn’t my place. I-I woke up when yo-you started sin-singing and I-I kinda like your vo-voice s-so… Don’t be mad?” He gave you his signature crooked smile he  _ knew _ you couldn’t resist and you smile at him in return. “Also, that coffee smells great and I would like you to tell me about that song you were singing?” He walked towards you slowly and wrapped his arm around your waist, looking into your eyes. “Please,  _ cielo _ ?”

You snorted and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him softly. “Okay. But first, coffee. There are spare clothes for you in the dresser, if you want to change out of your suit. And brush your teeth while you are at it!” you added as he headed towards your room.

When he came back, he was wearing skinny jeans, an old t-shirt and your bunny flops. It was an adorkable sight and you giggled as you passed him a hot cup of coffee with a shot of milk and no sugar. He accepted it and gave you your phone. You both sat in the living-room and had breakfast together, talking about his night and sharing kisses. You loved the feeling of Peter’s lips on yours, you could never get enough of them. Soon, the two of you forgot your coffees on the table and you sat on his lap to deepen the kiss. His mouth tasted like coffee and raspberry jam and it drove you crazy. You moaned into his mouth and he pressed his hips against you. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled it a little, smiling when he groaned and rolled until he was lying on top of you and slid a hand under your pajama top.

“You want something, Arachnidude?” you bit his lip teasingly and he looked at you warningly, his eyes shining with lust and mischief.

“Really? That’s the best you could come up with? You disappoint me, my dear.” he huffed a little as he took you in his arms using his super strength and carried you to your room.

You laughed and wrapped your legs around your boyfriend’s waist “Sorry, I got distracted.” You bit his earlobe and Peter shuddered.

He threw you on your bed and crawled on top of you, kissing you passionately. You slid your hands under his shirt and pulled it off and he did the same to yours. He started trailing little kisses from your shoulder and up your neck. “I want to keep you distracted for the next hour,” he breathed next to your ear and you shivered, smiled and accepted his challenge.

  
  


****

  
  


The sheets were hanging low on his hips as he snuggled against you, his head resting on your chest, right above your heart, listening to your strong and calm heartbeat. His arm was lazily draped over your stomach while you had your arm around his shoulders, keeping him close. You placed a kiss on the top of Peter’s head.

“I will protect you,” he mumbled sluggishly without looking up.

Your lips curled upwards warmly. “Will you, now? From what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders and moved even closer to you. “Anything.” His response made you smile and coo at him. You hugged him tightly and placed your chin on the top of his head, running your fingers through his brown curls. “I liked hearing you sing. Not because you are a good singer, because you are almost as bad as me,” Peter laughed and kept talking before you could tickle him or push him off the bed. “What I meant was that I liked hearing you sing in Spanish. I like it. The way you sound? It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” he confessed, blushing.

You blushed too and laughed a nervous laugh. “Well, that’s why they say Spanish is the language of love,”

“I thought that was French?”

“Nah, that’s what French people want to believe.” You both laughed. “So… Would you like me to translate the song for you?” Peter nodded against your chest and you sighed with a smile on your lips. “Okay… Uhhhh, well, the song is called ‘Princesa’ by a well-known Argentinian rock band? And the lyrics say something like…” You started translating it slowly in your head, trying to look for the best equivalents, but for a song this was especially difficult. You then grabbed your phone from the bedside table and looked the song up in Youtube. “ **_Princess of all my palaces. If I was given the choice of how and where I would like to die. I would answer ‘Lying down, happy for being at your side_ ** .” Peter cooed and scooted closer. “ **_Victim of an exaggerated sex’_ ** .” He snorted at that and blushed violently, covering his face with his free hand. “ **_Smiling, looking at the ceiling. With your head on my chest._ ** ” Peter smiled widely at the realization that the song described their current situation perfectly and rose his head enough to place a soft kiss to your lips. After that, he listened attentively, smiling when you reached the ‘I love you’ part, but you pretended not to notice. “ **_And today you are the star of all of my dreams. I’m enslaved by your skin._ ** ” The last accord faded and you fell silent, waiting for Peter’s reaction.

“It’s beautiful.” He smiled and kissed the crook of your neck, tickling you. “ _ Gracias _ .” He smiled and raised, resting his upper body on his elbow. He used his free hand traced your face with his fingers. “I love you.”

“You are wel… Wait, what?” It took you a moment to register what he had just said to you and when you did, your breath got caught in your throat and your heart started hammering in your chest. You were as red as him and you looked him right in the eyes.

“I-I… I l-love you,” he repeated with a stutter. Before he could apologize and take back what he had said, you grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down for the most passionate kiss you have ever given someone. He fell on top of you and tried to keep up with your fervent lips and tongue. You buried your fingers in his hair and pulled it, earning a new groan from the young hero. You felt so full of love and happiness that you couldn’t contain it. You have dreamt of this moment for so long.

“I love you too, Peter,” you gasped when he broke the kiss to catch his breath. He stiffened his back and fixed his gaze in yours. Slowly, a wide smile appeared on his lips and hugged you tightly.

You didn’t leave the bed for the rest of the day.


End file.
